Page 270 of Heat of the Everflame

Luther slammed his fist against the shimmering dome. The King flinched, then growled and raised his palm.

I threw my shield around Luther and turned back to my mother.

“Diem,” she whispered. “I missed you, my little warrior.”

Fire burned through my throat. “I missed you, too. Oh gods, Mother... I missed you so much.”

Her head bobbled in a fight to stay up. I cupped my hands beneath her jaw, my heart aching at her grimace of pain. I darted a glance at the shouting match behind me, then unleashed my healing magic into her skin.

I flowed alongside my godhood as it surveyed her many wounds. Broken bones galore, a punctured lung, a shattered knee. Her back was slashed to ribbons. One tooth was missing, another loose.

My wrath nearly escaped in a feral scream. I poured it into my magic and growled at my godhood to make my mother whole.

A bright light flashed beneath my hands, and she slumped forward with a breathy groan. Slowly her legs trembled, steadied, then straightened. She stared at me, mouth agape. “Did you...?”

I hushed her, nervously glancing at the King.

Her eyes rose to my Crown. “But... I thought...”

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered. “Don’t let him know what I’ve done.”

She gave a shallow nod. The mortals hovered close, watching me with blatant doubt. She patted their shoulders. “Thank you, Brothers. Would you give me a moment with my little girl?”

I bristled, then nearly laughed. I was a grown woman, a Queen, a conquering hero come to break her free—but in her eyes, I was stillherlittle girl.

She pressed her palm to my cheek. “It’s only been a few months, but you look so different. Older. So much stronger, too.”

“It’s been almost a year. Much has happened.”

Her gaze flicked again to my Crown. “It seems it has.”

All my thoughts warred in a race to my lips. A thousand burning questions demanded to be asked, each one more urgent than the next. But it wasn’t the questions that choked me silent.

“Teller is well,” I managed to croak out.

Her eyes squeezed closed. “Thank the gods. I heard news of you, but nothing of him.”

“He’s fine. Sad, but fine. Healthy. Living in the palace. I get to call him a Prince now.” I laughed between sniffles. “Hehatesit.”

Her smile wobbled with the tremble of her lower lip, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “When they were torturing me, they told me things. About you... and about Andrei.”

My father’s name on her lips was more than I could take. The dread of this revelation had been haunting me for weeks.

“What did they say about Father?” I forced out.

“Vile things. Cruel things, to hurt me.” Her voice began to shake. “They said he’s...”

She didn’t finish.

And I didn’t answer.

The despair on my face, and the horror on hers, spoke the words neither of us could bear to say aloud.

She collapsed against the bars, her broken-hearted sob filling every corner and every shadow. My arms pulled her closer, but my own knees felt unstable as sorrow lacerated through my soul. The wound of my father’s death ripped open anew, and we clung to each other, bleeding out our agony.

The shouting behind me stopped. The mortals fell quiet in their cells. An awful silence settled around us, broken only by my mother’s weeping.

We stayed like that for a long while, my tears tumbling silently as hers fell in loud, heaving gasps. I held her as close as the bars would allow, tugging her so hard I feared we’d both be left bruised.

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